Group 20

[The buoyancy of water]

Izareth sat contented and happy in the driver’s seat of his coach. He would be back in Vikarh in a few hours time; there he could get a drink, a hot meal, and possibly some company for the night. He smiled at the thought. All he had to do was lead the wagon train the remaining twelve or so miles back home. As much as he couldn’t wait to be home Izareth kept his mind on his job. The girl they were accompanying back to her father was a very important figure in Vikarh. More precisely, her father was important; she got by on her looks alone. They were more than enough. He thought about their cargo and his smile broadened significantly. He had seen Lady Lazari only once before, but that had been enough.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She seemed to walk with an otherworldly grace that gave her an ethereal appearance. Izareth had often thought about her since that one glance had almost knocked him off his feet. If fact, since they had met he had hardly been able to get her out of his mind. He subconsciously compared every other girl he saw to her, and none of them came even close to her. So it came as quite a shock when she nimbly jumped up to sit next to him at the front of the coach.

Lady Lazari smiled at him knowingly then turned away. It was all Izareth could do not to jump out of the coach. She didn’t speak, but simply sat looking forward, as if she didn’t even know he was there. Izareth turned back to the road ahead, trying to find something to focus on in the distance. He tried to ignore the surrounding guards looking up at him jealously. For the briefest moment he considered talking to her, asking how she was, but he knew before he even tried that he didn’t have the courage to do such a thing. Instead he half turned towards her, lost his nerve, and turned back towards the road. It was futile to even try. Instead he turned to the guard walking along the road on his right hand side. He caught his eye and grinned. The guard grinned back mischievously.

The blade came from nowhere, burying itself into the guard’s neck. A brief look of shock passed over his face before he slumped to the ground dead. Izareth heard more thuds coming from further down the carriage train as more projectiles slammed into the guards. He heard a desperate cry echo down the line.

”Protect the Lady!”

Instinctively he tried to shield Lady Lazari as another flurry of missiles flew towards the coaches. He cried out in agony as several stones hit his back. He felt two of his ribs crack as the stones landed, and it suddenly became very hard to breathe. He whispered hoarsely to Lady Lazari.

”Get back to your… coach… Lock yourself in…”

The Lady nodded curtly before turning and jumping from the coach. Izareth noticed that although she was obviously terrified, she still looked beautiful. Once she had left he sat back in the driver’s seat, grimacing in pain. As he did, several riders rushed past. It was their job to bring news of the attack to Lord Lazari. Unfortunately, it seemed their assailants knew this. One was knocked off his saddle as a metal disc embedded itself into his forehead. The second raised his hand to protect his head moments before another disc flew into his unprotected ribs. He carried on for about twenty feet before he fell from his horse. The last rider was lucky. He was hit, but only in his arm. Even at this distance Izareth could see the disc sticking out of his arm as he fled to Vikarh.

Izareth turned painfully in his seat. He could see the remaining guards forming a protective circle around the Lady’s coach. There was still a constant bombardment of blades and rocks battering off the shield wall, but they seemed to be holding up fairly well. With a groan he turned and picked up the reins, ready to whip the horses into a gallop. Before he could there was a sudden thud on the coach roof just behind him. In a panic, Izareth started to turn round again to see what it was.

The last thing he saw was the furred hand that drove the rusty dagger deep into his chest.

**********

Standing outside the Flayed Asur, an Inn full of mercenaries and lowlifes, you look down at the note in your hand one more time. Despite the heavy rain you want to check the details of the note before you head inside. The poster is written on expensive paper, the writing elegant, yet there are clear signs that the writer was shaking as they wrote the message. The bottom right corner of the poster has a royal seal stamped on it, meaning the message was sent by a Lord.


!!STRONG MERCENARIES NEEDED!!

!!WELL PAID!!

For more information, bring this note to the Flayed Asur
at midday today and show it to the Innkeeper.


It was the thought of being employed by a Lord that drove you to take the poster and head to the Inn. Money has not been readily available recently, so any employment is greatly appreciated. And any chance to earn some extra money is an opportunity that cannot be passed up in the tough city of Vikarh. You take one last look at the short note before heading into the Inn and out of the rain.

The Flayed Asur is dimly lit. This is one of the reasons it attracts the kind of customers it does. People keep themselves to themselves here: they know not to meddle in other people’s affairs. Unless they can get away with it of course... Removing your soaked cloak you move to the bar and signal to get the Innkeeper’s attention. He strolls over slowly, obviously not in any rush. It is just before midday, meaning he has hardly any customers to deal with.

”Yes?” He leans on the bar lazily, staring at you with bored eyes. Without a word you show him the letter. Immediately his mood changes and he begins to actually pay attention to you. ”Ah, you have come about the job?” He turns his back for a moment. When he turns back to you he has a glass of red wine. He puts it down on the bar in front of you. ”Here, on the house. Take a seat at that table in the corner. Someone will be here to see you soon.”

OOC: Here we go!! None of you know about the events described in italics above - that was just a little snippet of things to come... The second section applies to each of you individually. You all arrive at different times, with whoever posts first arriving first, etc.

This is a chance for your characters to get to know each other. Chat away as much as you like while you are all sat round the table, the more you talk to each other the better!! Also, imagine that no one else here has read your character sheet yet. Your first post is very important for describing how you look and act to the other members of the group, so put in as much information as you want!

OK, hopefully I've set the scene properly and you all know what's going on... Post away!!

[Cananatra]

The Heavy rain had worked its way into the not nearly waterproof armour by the time the Inn came into sight through the obscuring downpour. It was a sorry and somewhat dilapidated Inn, catering only for mercenaries and common thieves. The poster was slowly disintegrating as it was unrolled and took the full beating of the elements but was still clearly legible. Enough so the elaborate and stylized Druchii script was clearly visible. The notice itself lacked the information which would normally entice a mercenary save for the bold letters stating good pay. This, combined with the seal at the bottom was enough to force him out on this wretched day.

Re-rolling the poster Cananatra swiftly walked the remaining distance to the Inn door and pushed it open. The smell of smoke and unwashed bodies assailed him as the door closed and the last vestiges of fresh air disappeared. Wiping the rain from his face he walked towards the Innkeeper. A bored looking Druchii whose level of activity mirrored that of the Inn, subdued. His attitude changed markedly when his eyes fell on the freshly unrolled poster and he quickly offered wine and designated a table.

Taking the wine Cananatra walked to the indicated table. Eyes scanning the small number of patrons at this early hour. Various breeds of Druchii down on their fortunes. Reaching the table he swung the shield from his back and placed it against his chair before sitting in the corner so he could see whoever approached.

Taking a mouthful of wine Cananatra relaxed as much as was possible while still watching for any threats. I do dislike taking jobs without first knowing what it is and who I’m working for. he thought to himself as the wine slowly trickled down his throat. Looking at the goblet he smiled grimly. Perhaps this is even poisoned, an enemy I have yet to recognise. Reaching forward he once again picked up the goblet and drained it. If they think they can poison me they obviously know little about me. His hand moved to his forehead and his finger traced the scar left by the skinks dart. I learned long ago not to fear poison, unfortunately that also means I can’t get drunk, pity. But a trade off I’d make any time.

With nothing better to do he settles back in his chair and watches the door for his employer or whoever else may show up.

[Rekok]

OOC: Hi, looking forward to this, first up little key:

IC will be in normal,
thoughts will be in italic
Talk will be in bold


IC: It had taken Rekok a few weeks to get to Vikarh, he regretted having to travel on foot but he had no idea how to ride and could not afford a mount anyway. He had eaten all of his rations and his common low-born brown robes where dirty and smelt like he had spent to many night sleeping ruff on the ground. His normally pale complexion was even more pale, and his face looked worse than gaunt, like the flesh on a rotting corpse. He had taken a fallen branch from a tree to prop himself up so he could walk straight. When he did final get to the city that the elders had advised him to visit first, the guard had been less than polite and he was sure he heard him making a bet on how long he lasted until he was in the morgue.

He had been rummaging in the bins at the back of a grotty little inn in the pouring rain, when he spotted a plain looking letter. On closer inspection, it revealed little information about what was required but it did boast that he would be well paid. Rekok didn't want money, he had give all his families wealth to the temple, but he did wished he had some money left to at least buy something to eat. Maybe he could do a quick job, get some money and then continue on his quest.

Rekok entered the Flayed Asur and was greeted by a stench of warm wet smelling clothes, with an undertone of sweat. There was a thick layer of smoke hanging in the air which only added to the dimly lit inn's dark atmosphere. His ears rang from the silence, he had been used to the heavy sound the downpour was making outside, the Druchii in the inn watched him as he approached the bar, then having considered him not to be a treat continued there conversations (and probably putting their concealed daggers back in there scabbards).

The barkeeper was less than impressed at the dripping wet tramp that had just arrived, but when Rekok slapped the soaking wet letter down on the bar, the barkeeper look at him curiously and reached out for the letter, Rekok slammed a dagger down between the barkeepers fingers and though the letter. A bit more convinced the barkeeper poured Rekok a goblet of the usually crappy sweet red house wine, he accepted it none the less, and was directed to take a seat near the table in the corner.

Rekok noticed a warrior already sitting at the table, he noticed the interesting scar on his forehead and that he was drinking the wine like it was water. Rekok pulled out a chair next to the warrior and sat down. He offered the glass of wine to the warrior.

You seam to like this excuses for wine, you can have this if you want. The name's Rekok.

[Cananatra]

The sudden sound of the inn door opening disturbed the muttering of the Inns less then savoury cliental. The figure that entered was one that seemed bedraggled, completely soaked by the storm and wearing a simple brown robe. Cananatra watched as he moved over to the Innkeeper. The dagger through the letter was somewhat excessive but effective none the less. He seemed to be another of the mercenaries this unknown employer had designated to hire judging by the similar reaction given by the Innkeeper.

The newcomer took the goblet and began to move towards the same table. As he came closer his features became more noticeable through the dim light and pall of smoke. This is one Druchii that needs a serious meal he thought to himself as the gaunt newcomer came closer. The deathly pallor of his skin gave the impression of a freshly dug up corpse. Or so it seemed.

“You seam to like this excuses for wine, you can have this if you want. The name's Rekok.” the man spoke as he pulled up a chair. Friendly sort, especially for a complete stranger in a place like this Cananatra looked at the proffered goblet. The same cheap wine given to him filled it. Well, guess I can find out if it’s poisoned now

“Greetings Rekok. My name is Cananatra. It is kind of you to offer the wine though I fear you need it much more then I do. It may be cheap but it brings a warm glow on this cold day. Perhaps we should order some food, you look like you need it.”

[Rekok]

"Unfortunately I find myself financially embarrassed. Besides would you not expect the food in this place to be poisoned, probably with some sleeping draft, so they can mug you and dump your body outside. I was thinking the same about the wine but I doubt that any poison would survive in there with all that sugar."

Rekok picked up the goblet a drank, the liquid indeed was sweet, but he was glad of the warmth it brought. It was the first drink he had had in a long time, trainees were not been allowed to drink at the temple.

"I'm used to drinking vintages much better than this, but that was a life time ago...." Rekok trailed off.

[Cananatra]

“Well our employer made this wine ready, he is undoubtedly an important person judging from his seal so I do doubt they would poison us. Not conductive to employment.” Cananatra watched him carefully as he drank the wine. It seemed to have no ill effect. It seems the wine was not poisoned. Though if he thinks sugar stops poison he is truly naïve. Once again he glanced around the room before returning his gaze to Rekok.
“Though now it seems we must await the arrival of our employer.” Cananatra leaned back in his chair, removing his hand from where it rested on the hilt of his sword. A precaution taken as Rekok approached. The comment about better vintages a lifetime ago may hint to a higher status in the past. For one to drop apparently so low would suggest either instability or poor command of a house. Either way this is one to watch.

[Rekok]

Rekok considered what Cananatra had just said, there was someone wrong about the whole arrangement, he just couldn't place his finger on it.

“A noble he may be, but his place of meeting is questionable.”

Rekok relaxed his position, and removed his hand off his concealed dagger in his sleeve. It seemed he was right about the plain brown robes, they did help him blend in better, some Druchii even treated him as a beggar. Normal Druchii didn't trust Druchii like him, and right now it seemed he need all the 'friends' he can get.

[Cananatra]

Cananatra smiled faintly at Rekok’s statement of suspicion. Perhaps the manner of hire was questionable but as is the case with many secretive meetings it would likely pay well. Though danger would no doubt lurk around every corner. A second larger smile replaced the first as he thought of the danger, life could be so boring at times. I just wish we could have been asked to meet in some monster infested lair. That way waiting would be fun and could have ensured no weaklings. But then again, no wine in a monsters lair and the rain is quite heavy. Perhaps the Inn is advantageous.

You see Rekok, most likely our employer wants whatever job he has lined up for us to happen quietly. Perhaps without involving the temple or the guard who would no doubt levy a substantial fee. Though he may pay us well it would still be cheaper then hiring professionals. As it stands at least by picking here we are out of the rain.

[Joyfulcheese]

If his mood wasn't bad enough, the weight of the rain soaking through his traveling cloak made things worse. It was dark, and the clouds overhead and the torrential rain made it nearly impossible to see any great distance, even for his elvish eyes. He'd been on the road for days, he'd given up keeping track. What he hadn't managed to "liberate" from a few travelers for food, he'd had to hunt. And without a bow he'd had to set traps. He'd thought about stealing a horse but with the weather as rough as it had been for the past few days no one was stopping.

Eventually he had entered the city of Vikarh. It was as dark as any city he'd been in but Dark Elf cities carried a certain air about them, one that hightened his senses and made him more wary of his surroundings, although, he thought with a smile that the 'air' was more his natural survival instinct on overdrive. In Vikarh, the air was heavy and the stench it carried with it was one of age, and dark secrets. While his people were naturally subtle, sneaky and down right nefarious, there was a more ruthless edge to this city. Perhaps it was to do with its reputation as a mercenary city, one where there was not much of a code of honour. But necessity was the mother of invention and he needed this place and what it could offer if he ever intended to get anywhere.

Huddling beside a large stone building just inside the city walls, he sheltered himself with his cloak and checked the small parchment he'd found on one of the travellers he'd. It gave a brief message and an address. The handwriting and quality of the parchment, not to mention the seal indicated it came from a noble of sorts, how high up the chain they were remained to be seen but it seemed like Khaine had smiled upon him once more. Tucking it back inside his cloak he set out in search of the inn.

Finding it took a matter of a couple of hours but he thanked Khaine for the shelter as he pulled back the hood on his travelling cloak and stepped inside and walked up to the bar. It was much as he'd expected it to be inside, murmer of conversation from all over, people keeping to themselves and a few wary glances from around. The barkeeper was occupied stowing some flagons and it took a couple of coughs and a tap on the bar to get their attention.

"What do you want?" The tone in his voice made it pretty clear he wasn't in much of a serving mood but as soon as the scroll apeared from within his cloak their mood changed. A glass appeared in quick order and was filled with a sweet smelling wine.


"There are a few others, at a table in the corner there, they've been here for a short while."

Nodding he lifted the wine, taking a brief smell of it before making his way to an unoccupied table near the door and taking a seat. The wine, he set in front of him and watched the table the barkeeper had indicated to him and waited.

[Rekok]

Rekok smiled, wiped the water the had dripped on to his face from his wet hair.

“Good, I like working quietly.”

Rekok smile turned into a menacing grin. Then he noticed the new comer, the grin vanished and his right hand slowly moved to his left sleeve, his rested his hand on the hilt of the dagger. He watched the new comer accept a goblet of wine. So he is another mercenaries seeking this job. He noticed the Druchii deliberately take a seat on a separate table Interesting choice, then he looked back a Cananatra.

“What do you make of this new comer?”

[Narmo eressea]

Narmo Eressea was frozen an soaked in rain water. His dark clothes and his shade cloak were nearly torn due to the many days in the naggarothi forests. He needed some rest and new plans. His young age and his family having been killed by asur troops left him with few options to move in druchii society. If only his male lover was there…

Fortune had not smiled him recently for he has wasted most of his money trying to get information about the hidden base the minions of Anar had near Arnheim.

Maybe this day was a lucky one. An opportunity to earn some money and to make a mission for a Lord which would in the end surely serve to better his fighting skills. None, and less in a society of bastards like the druchii one payed well for something easy.

Thinking that Narmo entered the inn and asked a glass of wine and began to inspect the surroundings and possible ways of leaving should something ugly happened.

[Cananatra]

The door opened again and another soaking wet Druchii stepped inside. He made his way to the Innkeeper and showed a poster, from this angle it was hard to tell but it was likely similar to the one both himself and Rekok carried. The Innkeepers gesture towards the table was in no way circumspect and yet the newcomer too his wine and moved to another table near the door. I wonder what our new friend is playing at?

“What do you make of this new comer?” Rekok’s voice cut through his appraisal. The new stranger had taken his seat and was quite clearly looking at them, whether intentionally or not his gaze was blatant. This one is suspicious of us, perhaps even scared. He won’t get the job sitting over there though.

I think he is quite the cautious one, and none to bright. If he wished to observe he would have been better not to show the Innkeeper the poster. A mischievous glint entered Cananatra’s eye. Perhaps we should Invite him over? catching the newcomers eye Cananatra casually raised his hand in greeting and shouted, Come, we know you’re here for the same reason we are, join us. just as he finished speaking the door opened again and another figure entered. He walked to the bar, took his wine as had all others before him but this one remained standing at the bar, surveying the Inn. One invite is enough for me on any given day. That one can find his own way over.

[Narmo eressea]

Hi. Who are you? I got this poster and I am looking forward to learn more about it. For what you say I assume you are also wanting a job as a mercenary.

A pleasure to know you. My name is Narmo from the House Eressea, or should I say from the destroyed House Eressea? Shadow warriors helped by more asur scum razed my home and slayed all my beloved ones. I seek vengeance now but meanwhile any job shall be fine.

[Bubonicus]

OOC: Hello all!

At least this isn’t snow. Gods be damned, where is this place? Having been treated with the disdain any Druchii in their right minds would be expected to show to a ragged stinking spectre such as Dai, getting directions to the Flayed Asur had proved impossible. Thus, he had been forced to tread the increasingly muddy streets of Vikarh in his increasingly sodden rags. Still, it was better to have a purpose to accompany his stride rather than wandering from tavern to tavern, simply looking for a place to sit where he could gather his thoughts and let opportunity find him, only to be turned away at the door. As he strode along Dai marvelled at how utterly…alien it all seemed to him. Not only had his appearance become further removed from that of his kinsmen, but it seemed so had his very sense of self. What right did a wolf have to walk these streets? Yet under his scarred flesh, the young man he had once been rejoiced to finally, finally come back to his people, his culture. After five decades of isolation there was wine to drink, merriment to be had…but no, that was who he had been, long ago. There was no going back. Abruptly, he found himself longing for his sparkling white forest full of game and shadows. Dai quickened his step and followed the trail of dilapidated housing to the rougher part of town.

Ah, this must be the rendezvous. Ha! Any tavern with a name so unashamedly tasteless would surely be confined to the backstreets. He idly wandered when the last time he had so many thoughts comprised of words and not pictures in one day. For that matter when was the last time he had used the phrase ‘unashamedly tasteless’? “ Probably the last time I drank that piss the Kislevites call ale…” he muttered to himself as he unfurled the scroll. He had managed to tear it off of the wall of the Thirteen-Thorned Rose Tavern as he was hurled out into the streets by some of the more forceful clientele. He gave a final glance through the heavy downpour towards the crudely painted motif of the tavern’s namesake as he strode towards the door.

Looking like the worst kind of tramp but entering like visiting royalty, Dai didn’t pause to shake out his tattered clothes or even to brush back his hood, but strode right to the bar, milk-white eyes taking in everything without a pause in his step. The cloying silence, the sudden lack of rain giving an extra awareness of just how sodden he was, the mammalian stink of unwashed bodies…truly this was a cave! Dai felt the ghost of a smile play upon his torn and tattered lips. This place felt like his cave, a place to brood in silence, but with the added bonus of gleaning a drink off of a patron too inebriated to defend themselves. A den for wary scavengers then, coming together through necessity but ready to strike at any who showed the slightest hint of weakness. Despite his stance, he looked like an invalid, and he suddenly wandered what he would do if someone did decide they’d like to leave him bloodied in the alley behind the inn? There had been many rabbits over the years, even a few wolves and once a bear, but how long had it been since he had fought an armed opponent? The nearest he had come to fighting another man in half a century had been silently executing lost human hunters from afar with his crossbow. All this ran through his mind in the few seconds it took to reach the bar from the door.

Thankfully, the innkeeper’s back was turned as Dai had entered, otherwise he might have ordered him right back into the streets. Dai gave him no such opportunity, and the man gave a start as he was greeted by the poster looming inches from his face. He quickly resumed his surly expression and attitude, and Dai could only watch stunned as he poured a goblet of wine and set it down before him. It seemed the man had gone through the motions a few times that day, only realising who exactly he was offering the drink to just too late to retract it. Dai greedily snatched the cheap pewter container from the bar top, and actually backed up a half-step, embracing the wine like treasure. A number of emotions seemed to play about the innkeeper’s face, before he finally settled on imperious disgust, and with a barely perceptible nod motioned Dai towards the table in the far corner. Dai only noticed this out of the corner of his eye as he was already tilting back the wine glass. No time to stand on ceremony, desperate now, he raked back the strips of cloth covering his mouth so hard that his ragged nails would have left gouges in softer flesh, and giving any who dared to look a two second view of a nightmarishly disfigured maw, upended the whole goblet . It was panacea. Ambrosia. He felt his senses sing with pleasure. As quickly as it had happened, the goblet was back on the bar top and his face covered once more, to hide his delighted smile. It had been years since he had drank true wine. By Khaine, if only I had known that these posters were exchangeable for wine! I would have collected more!

Regaining his composure, he slowly approached the table in the corner where three others were sitting, and gave each a brief nod, and without further ado, settled himself down in a free seat like a satisfied feline.

“Greeting good sirs. I take it you are here for the same reasons I am. Opportunity, and necessity,” he rasps, the words wrapping strangely around his tongue.

[Joyfulcheese]

One of the others who had been sitting at the table the Bar Tender had obviously seen him take the wine from the bar, evidently a sign to whomever had recruited them as to who had been bold, or foolish, enough to seek out the tavern and the task outlined on the parchment. Choosing to ignore the wave and the open invitation that drew the attention of all too many of the inns denizens, he chose to inhale some of the wine and let it sit. 10 years earlier and he would have had the servant who'd brought him such poor wine flogged or handed over to the Witch Elves for sport, but such were the times he found himself in. The luxury of a glass of wine was a rare one, and one which he intended to make the most of, letting the gentle fragrance of it drift up slowly from the glass into his nostrils.

A slave of some description, wrapped in rags made their way around the inn, collecting empty flagons and wincing at the occasionally punch or kick from its denizens all of whom thought it great sport. When they came by his table he tapped the table to get their attention.

"Some food, and a good brew to go with it, I'm sure my host will be happy enough to oblige you with the coin," he said with a curt smile briefly exposing the parchment from inside his cloak. Reeking of fear and trepidation the slave glanced over at the bar from where the innkeeper had suddenly shown an interest. Giving a slight nod to the slave while casting a look of barely restrained disgust, they turned back to the patrons demanding more drinks.

"And do try not to take too long, there's a good slave," he added with a smile and sat back in his chair taking a brief sip of wine.

[Joyfulcheese]

The food arrived in short order and he left it front of him, the warmth and the smell drifting up into his hood. His ears pricked up at a sound and he reached into his cloak and produced a small tube. Opening it he sprinkled some herbs over the stew and replaced the tube just in time to see two figures standing in front of him.

"You're in our seats," the one to his left said in a cold voice.

"I'm sure, and I suppose the ones you just left were yours as well," he replied.

There was a soft scraping sound as they pulled back the short stools at his table and sat down in front of him, the one who had spoken reaching over and pulling the stew towards him. And started to eat some of it, passing the bowl over to his comrade.

"Thanks for the food by the way, now are you going to leave us to our dinner or do we have to escort you out?"

Smiling from beneath his cloak he stood up, his hands out.

"Quite unnecessary I assure you, I'm here to meet others. Hope you enjoy the food."

Nodding his head he made his way over to the table the others were seated at, glass of wine in hand, and sat down. He nodded a quick greeting and smiled as muffled cries of pain eminated from the table he'd left and the thug who'd threatened him was lying on the ground convulsing, his friend looking at him worriedly. Barely a moment later they too had collapsed and after a brief convulsion fell quiet beside their dead colleague, their skin a strange orange colour and a purple liquid seeping from their eyes and mouth.

And as if nothing had happened, the inn returned to normal, a couple of slaves rushed out and cleared the bodies away and in no short order the normal murmer of conversation had resumed.

"Hope you don't take offence at my not joining you sooner, those two were giving us an undue amount of attention even for a place such as this," he said raising his glass to them in a toast.

[Scion of naggaroth]

Battered, beaten, exhausted Alidith stumbled into Vikarth. Ignoring the guardsman's glance of distaste the expectation of finding the Trainee dead in an alleyway before the night's out almost too obvious on the trined soldier's features. Peering into his pouch and cringing at it's meagre occupants I'll be needing work and fast but first, food and a place to stay, I can afford that at least. The teachings of great Khaine will see to the rest. Tightening his belt against the formerly so rare feeling but in recent days, unfortunatly the prevailent feeling, hunger. A flyer catches the eye, poorly detailed, poorly written thought the Trainee, But..I'll take work where it comes, I'll combine work with food/i] he set out in search of the Flayed Asur.

Finally having located the place Alidith slid off his cloak, the clothes beneath tattered, in some places the rents clearly having been made by weaponry, others of less certain cause, the clothes themself, dark, either from use or design. At his waist are buckled a longsowrd and a dagger, an eblem on the hilt catching the eye. He strides strodes up to the innkeeper with an air of confidence, despite his state before presenting his flyer.

"And food with the wine, a long journey with little rest's been mine for the past few days..."

Alidith hands over his last few coins as payment for the meal the job will cover the costs, maybe the "employer" will even provide lodging" before walking slowly over to the alloted corner. Alidith finds himself a chair, seating just outside the formed group, his gaze flittering between the faces already sat, his meal delivered just in time to save him from joining in the begun conversation.

[Rekok]

OOC: I'm not sure Joyfulcheese if you can do that, not only because of the level of control you have over the environment and also because you've killed two Druchii in the city – which means the guards will be after you.

IC: I wonder when other mercenaries would get here. Looking at the other four Druchii that had turned up, they all looked like the most unlikely mercenaries to ever get hired, more like a gang of beggars but then he was dressed in wet muddy brown robes, so he fitted in very well.

“Greetings, I am Rekok, I take it you are all here for this job as well.”

[Cananatra]

Ooc: I’m fairly sure that was a tad too much control. But lacking a post from our mod and wanting to post myself I’ll just go with it.

IC: The door opened yet again and a beggar walked in, covered in rags. He walked with confidence over to the Innkeeper and showed the poster taking his wine. For some reason he kept his face covered only pulling the cover down long enough to down his wine. At this distance and through the smoke it was impossible to make out his features and he swiftly covered his face again. One with some secrets it seems. I wonder what he has to hide? The question didn’t last long, as the beggar approached it became clear he had been in some great conflagration, the skin of his hands was heavily scarred.“Greeting good sirs. I take it you are here for the same reasons I am. Opportunity, and necessity.” His voice sounded harsh, caused by his scarring or perhaps just the cloth over his mouth. Nodding a greeting of his own Cananatra continued to survey the room, one eye on the newcomer by the door, the other waiting for anyone else to enter.

Before anyone did a small commotion involving the solitary newcomer and two other Druchii caught Cananatra’s attention. They acted in a rough manner, trying to intimidate the newcomer out of his seat. It seemed to work. The newcomer rose and left without a fuss, moving over to join then at last. Perhaps he is not quite as stupid as I first believed. Cananatra thought as he approached. A moment later the two Druchii where on the floor, frothing at the mouth with a strange tint to their skin. "Hope you don't take offence at my not joining you sooner, those two were giving us an undue amount of attention even for a place such as this.” Poison. Interesting.
"Not at all, poisoner. We welcome underhanded, dishonest Druchii with open arms. Of course understand if we don’t allow you buy us a drink.” Cananatra replied in a cold voice.

Before he could answer another entered the Inn. He quickly spoke to the Innkeeper and came over, seating himself and became engrossed in his meal. Cananatra smiled slightly at that before speaking again, addressing the newcomers. "For all of you who have just arrived my name is Cananatra."

EDIT: Damn long posts, you beat me in there Rekok, had to change my ending.

[Bubonicus]

He let out a dry, rattling chuckle under his breath at Cananatra‘s comment, barely perceptible through the bandages around his mouth. Here’s one who kills without concern, scattering poison as if it were sand. And such instantaneous effects as well! I would prefer one that took weeks, not seconds. Later, he would muse upon whether this reckless display was a calculated move to intimidate the rest of them, or just a careless and overt response to a minor annoyance. He would need to watch this one carefully. He shrugged slightly so that he could feel the reassuring weight of his crossbow. But for now, let the pleasantries resume.

Nodding to the others, he raised his voice above it’s usual whisper-rough level. “Good health to you, Cananatra, Rekok, Narmo,” incling his head to each in turn. “I am called Dai. And you others?” he said, looking from the poisoner to the young man who looked as if he was expecting to face a two-year famine. In the last minute he had spoken more words than he had in years, and the strain on his scarred vocal chords was beginning to tell already. “Surely it must almost be noon?” he choked out, looking towards the door.

[Joyfulcheese]

"Not at all, poisoner. We welcome underhanded, dishonest Druchii with open arms. Of course understand if we don’t allow you buy us a drink.”

He let out a soft chuckle and raised his glass. He took a moment to casually glance around the room before turning back to the group and bringing his focus to the matter at hand.

“Surely it must almost be noon,” whispered Dai. The bandages around his face were curious indeed, but no doubt there for a good reason, what that was would remain to be seen.

"I believe so, but I'm sure the one responsible for the invitations will arrive when they please, assuming of course they're not already here. I'm just curious as to why someone would go to all this trouble when there are more than enough blades for hire in the city, why bother sending out these," he said taking out his parchment and rolling it around in his fingers briefly. One more question for their host he thought to himself. Regardless, it was warm in here and the wine wasn't too unpleasant. Whatever happened he had at least arrived in the city and was out of the accursed rain.

[The buoyancy of water]

The Innkeeper looks up as the two patrons fall to the floor and promptly die. ”What the hell?!” He rushes over, checking both the bodies quickly, taking a couple of valuables from the pair of them as he does. Still kneeling, he looks over at your table, a clear look of distrust crossing his face. Before he has a chance to do anything about the incident an elf rushes into the Inn. He is well dressed, a thick red robe protecting him from the elements. Not much else of his person is visible, but you can just make out his polished black boots under his robe. His hair is long and black, tied back in a neat ponytail that reaches just past his shoulders. The Innkeeper stands immediately, obviously recognising him. They whisper between themselves briefly and while they do the Innkeeper motions towards the bodies, then looks to your table. The new elf nods before approaching you, hands clasped behind his back.

”You are the ones that picked up the posters? Good. We need to be quick. Please, follow me.” Although reluctant to follow, this seems to be the only to actually get paid. So, pulling your cloaks tightly around your shoulders, you all head back into the bad weather. The elf checks you are following before heading off at a fast pace. The group follows him through the overcast streets of Vikarh, the houses on either side slowly becoming more upmarket as you go. After approximately twenty minutes he stops suddenly. ”This is a very delicate matter, so we will approach my master’s house through the servants’ entrance. This way.” He nods towards the alleyway he is standing next to before disappearing down it.

You arrive at a gate shortly after entering the alley. A single, well armoured guard stands outside, watching you suspiciously as you approach. He is well built, his heavy armour further adding to his imposing presence. He carries a well crafted sword that curves wickedly towards its tip. Interestingly, the emblem on his shield and breastplate don’t match the emblem on the letters you picked up around town. He turns and opens the gate as soon as he sees the elf leading you. As soon as you are all through the gate is pulled shut and locked. If you were having doubts about this, it’s too late now.

The mansion before you is massive, six stories high. It sits in the middle of a well kept garden with stables against one of the perimeter walls. There are only a few windows showing signs of light in the rooms inside, probably meaning most of the usual occupants are not currently there. The elf leads you around the side of the house and through the front door. The inside is incredibly well decorated. The walls are painted a royal red and many paintings of Nobles hang from them. A golden chandelier is suspended from the ceiling. The elf leads you across the main hallway and into another room. This one is equally well decorated and appears to be some sort of office for the Lord of the house. ”My Lord, the mercenaries that took the letters.” The elf bows and leaves.

It is now that you notice another elf standing by the window. He turns as you enter, his face downcast and solemn. His clothes are even finer then those of his servant as befits the Lord of the house. Gold chains hand from the shoulders of his red robes as well as the breast pocket of his black silk shirt. His trousers and boots are equally well made and are also black. He too has long dark hair, though it is not tied back as his servants was. He looks very worried; something is obviously playing on his mind. He motions you into the room.

”Thank you for coming. I was hoping for more then six of you, but I’m sure you will be sufficient. My name is Lord Lazari. There isn’t much time, so I’m going to get straight to the point. A wounded messenger arrived on my doorstep late last night. He was one of the guards accompanying my daughter home from a trip to Naggaroth. He said they were attacked by an unknown enemy approximately ten miles from here. He doesn’t know what happened to the rest of the guards; he was sent to inform me as soon as the attack began. Unfortunately he has since passed away; some sort of poison was coated on the weapon that struck him. I want you to leave immediately to find out if my daughter is still there. Her coach is enchanted, so if she locked herself inside there is almost no chance that their assailants will have got to her.

“Obviously this is a very difficult matter. If any of the other Lords find out about the attack they will begin to doubt the strength of my guard and will seek to bring me down. That, combined with the fact that almost all my forces are currently away at the call of the Witchking himself is why I had to hire simple mercenaries for this job. I can’t have anyone else knowing about this incident. As such, as well as finding my daughter I want you to set fire to any remains of the attack. The road they were travelling on is off the main path, so hopefully no one will have seen any wreckage yet. If you meet anyone that has while you are travelling there, kill them.

You will each receive fifty gold pieces for doing this, and another one hundred each if you manage to find my daughter and return her to me. Now, I’m sure you have some questions, but please be quick, time is pressing.”

[Rekok]

Rekok was still staring at the dead bodies when the messenger arrived. That was a very reckless thing to do, or he is very foolishly trying to impress us (The funny thing being it did, in a away), I'm going to have to watch this one. Rekok observed this well dressed messenger and was less than impressed that they had to follow him elsewhere, though it was possible to avoid the unwanted attention the two dead bodies posed.

What really annoyed Rekok what having to walk all the way to this small mansion in the pouring rain, and to make matters worse the messenger made them use the servants entrance, not so many years ago Rekok would have beaten the servant for even suggesting the idea. but that was in another life... He was so annoyed he nearly missed the emblem on the guards shield and breastplate, interestingly they didn't match the emblem on the letter had picked up near the bins.

Soaking wet, again, he listened to what Lord Lazari, the odd drip made a loud sound as it splashed onto the marble floor. He managed to stop himself smiling when Lord Lazari said nearly all his force was away Oh, yes, we'll get your daughter back, then we will renegotiate on the price

My Lord, perhaps you would be so kind as to provide a map with the route the coach was taking?

[Bubonicus]

Just as I was starting to feel marginally less sodden. Still, Dai rose from his seat with respectful swiftness, and made his way to the door with the others, careful to walk behind the rest of the group. A group. It appears that’s what we have just become. It has been so long since I hunted with a pack, I wonder if I still can. And we are pack now, for better or worse, drawn together by the promise of coin. Part of a mercenary group once again. By Khaine, I hope this ends better than the last time. As the rain transformed from background noise to drenching reality, Dai wondered when he’d next have the opportunity to savour a glass of wine.

As their finely-garbed guide announced his attention to lead them down an alley, Dai’s nerves tightened, and the few hairs that remained on the back of neck rose up. He maintained his impassive white-eyed silence and steady gait, but inside a panic threatened to reach crescendo as his mind ran through a hundred scenarios. What if this isn’t chance that I took this specific poster? What if this is all an elaborate ploy by Uriel to kill me before I can get to him? It could be it could be he is a lord now after all. Do I even know what symbol he uses? No, fool! An alley. Trapped on both sides. Look at that guard, just a few more of them stepping behind us and we’d be butchered like hogs. He whirled around, suddenly convinced that they were being followed. His hands had even flicked to the clasps holding his gnarled crossbow to his back before he managed to calm himself. No, no he thinks I’m dead. Has probably convinced himself of the fact. Yes, old friend, I’ll be seeing you very soon. And by the time you scream, it will be far too late. Transforming fear to patient rage with calming thoughts of brutal revenge, Dai followed in the muddy wake of the other five through the gate. But he couldn’t help twitching ever so slightly as it slammed behind them.

Have you been living like this? In palatial splendour? How many nights have you warmed yourself with a fire and a woman, while under the same moon I shivered half-starved and frozen?, his mind blazed, dead eyes taking in all the details of the mansion grounds with a cold fury. It was only when the grinding of his teeth became more audible than the gravel underfoot that he realised he was heaping his nemesis’s misdeeds on whoever occupied this place, working himself into a kind of mania. If he kept this up, all he would see when the door opened would be Uriel. He purposefully slowed his breathing, and as the door oak doors opened to a scene of quiet luxury, he realised his folly. Emotions. Having not experienced them for so long, he had forgotten how to deal with them. During his isolation , his mind had reverted to an animal state for months on end, prime directives being shelter and food, and things such as emotions being unnecessary to survival. But hatred had flooded his heart once more when he had heard of Uriel’s survival. I must learn to master the mind of a man once more. I am out of touch with intrigue, deception, and tact. And what better place to begin my re-acquaintance than in a Noble’s abode! He felt a wry smile growing behind mask of cloth.

All this elegance had, for the first time, made him acutely aware of just what a filthy urchin he appeared to be. I wonder if he’ll have me executed on sight for treading mud into his carpets he mused as he studied the lord before him. But as he spoke, Dai focused his unblinking eyes on him and hung on his every word. A hunt indeed, and an elusive quarry. And was that the slightest flutter of excitement in his shrivelled heart? Adventure beckoned once more.

OOC: If no one else asks it….

Preferring to remain silent and let others speak first for the moment, he gave a respectful bow and eventually asked “Lord Lazari, are their supplies in the wagon? How long can she survive locked in there?,” careful not to show the slightest doubt that she made it to safety.

[Cananatra]

More rain. I hate rain. It’s only marginally better then heat. Cananatra thought as he walked along behind the messenger. It took a while but soon they approached their destination. The messenger took them through the servants entrance. Insulting but to be expected.

The noble stood facing the window when they arrived in the room. He turned revealing a pained expression. This one has a serious problem. He spoke swiftly and got straight to the point, he needed his daughter rescued and all those who may have noticed the attack to be silenced. For this his offer of payment was very reasonable.

Rekok has it right. It seems simple enough, with a map we should be able to deal with this, hopefully without any difficulty. Are we going alone or do you intend for us to take any of your guards with us? He looked at Dai before continuing I doubt this will last long enough for supplies to become a problem for her. Though it would be useful to have an idea of the timeframe.